The End is Beginning
by mysexualityisdumbass
Summary: Rae wasn't prepared for this, no one was. Whether or not they will be able to overcome it is dependent upon them. (apocalypse story)
1. Intro

so i've been drafting the main idea for this story for maybe a year now, it's about an apocalypse and the characters are loosely based off of people i know and i (though the ages are incorrect), but i'm really excited and the first chapter is nearly done and i'll upload it as soon as i'm finished.

to be fair i haven't the slightest clue how this website even operates, so if this is all messed up that's on me. i don't even know what this box i'm typing in is even for or how much i'm supposed to be typing anyway:)

**CHARACTER DESCRIPTIONS **

Rae \- age: 17, 5'4, female, thin, short, thick curly dark brown hair, freckles, thick eyebrows, deep blue eyes

Aubrey \- age: 36, 5'5, female, average build, long, thick blonde curly hair, green eyes, kind face

John \- age: 44, 5'8, male, strong build, short curly dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, mustache + medium beard

Marie \- age: 23, 5'6, female, average build, medium length straight blonde, almost platinum hair with dark roots showing, light blue eyes, distracted look

Ruth \- age: 18, 5'5, female, average build, short black wavy hair , glasses, brown eyes, round face

Paige \- age: 14, 5'4, female, thin, short straight blonde hair, light green eyes, thin lips

Naomi \- age: 33, 5'5, female, large build, shiny, lightly-bleached curls running just above her shoulders, dark brown eyes, short eyelashes, a stern face

Jesse \- age: 18, 5'5, male, strong build, short dirty blond hair, green-blue eyes, slightly crooked canines, blackheads primarily on nose

Amanda \- age: 32, 5'8, female, larger-than-average build, long light brown hair in a braid, rectangular glasses, light brown eyes, pug nose

Jim \- age: 37, 5'7, male, thin build, curly brown hair in a mild bowl cut, low glasses, brown eyes, short beard, round eyes, relaxed look

Megan \- age: 18, 5'5, female, wiry build, thin long brown hair, hazel eyes, lazy look, thin lips

Emilia \- age: 18, 5'6, female, average build, long, shiny, long brown hair, green/hazel eyes, long forehead, large chest

Tristan \- age: 20, 5'7, male, average build, long, greasy blond hair, brown eyes, long forehead, tiny nose

Conner \- age: 46, 5'9, male, skinny build, short, graying hair, brown eyes, shabby look


	2. Chapter 1: It's Coming

(2 days before breakout)

-rae's pov-

I sit at the island in the middle of my kitchen, my mom speeding around the kitchen, rushing her preparations for our guests. It's just a couple days till Thanksgiving, and some of our family on my mothers side are coming to visit us. We've never had guests over for a holiday till this year, and my mother is especially nervous. To be honest, I'm just indifferent about it. It's not like my cousins are gonna want to spend time with me, or my aunts and uncles will want to know _everything _about senior year of high school. My experience is likely the same as theirs, which is just really boring and I'm waiting out the days till I get to leave this hellhole and go to college. To study what, exactly, is a good question, but it's my goal nonetheless.

I shake my head lightly a couple times. I don't know how long I just spaced out for, but the kitchen is now very clean, and there's a pot of boiling water on the stove, as opposed to how it was when I was aware of my surroundings. My mom is desperately trying to gain my sisters attention, which is a task hardly ever actually completed. My sister, Marie, is lying down on the couch with both AirPods fastened securely in her ears, and I can hear her filthy music from 10 feet away. It's a wonder she can hear anyone nowadays, even without those two hunks of plastic stuck in her head. Mom doesn't like to get loud, a trait that proves itself useless when regarding my dear sister. I hate it when Mom gets too scared to raise her voice, so I decide to help her.

I yank out my right earbud (no music had been playing in it for the past hour), stand up, and stride to the counter. From there, I open a drawer and find a rather large spoon we've never once used. My master plan is coming together. I dip the spoon in the hot water and smile at my confused mother, who's probably wondering what I'm doing with a huge slotted spoon submerged in the ravioli water. She looks away, probably done with trying to communicate with her children for the night. After a few seconds, I shake the spoon off and press it against my wrist, as if I was testing milk. It barely hurt, and I decide the time is right to strike. Yielding my spoon as if it were a weapon, I creep up to the couch and eye my sister. She's nearly asleep with her phone in her hands, her knees propped up in a perfect position. The rap music blasting from her AirPods isn't a great attack song, but it'll have to do. I hold the spoon up, and then slowly press it against her knee. It's probably not even that hot anymore, just the shock wakes her up.

Her screams and wails echoed throughout the house, and I was required to draft a sorry letter to her and give it to her before anyone went to bed. It was worth it.

-next day (zombie stuff next day)-

It's hard to learn a language without having a real teacher. I realize that now. I took Spanish my freshman and sophomore year, which was an absolute breeze. It's not like I'm fluent in Spanish or anything now, but like all my classes, I aced it every year. Currently, I'm attempting to learn French. I've been messing with it for a couple years, but now I'm finally getting serious. Since the only person I know who speaks French fluently enough to teach it is some jackass 7 hours away, Duolingo is now my primary teacher, sometimes assisted by Google and Google Translate.

Why I'm even thinking of any of this, though, is another good question. I'm in class, and not even a language class. I'm sitting in history, a class I happen to have a special hatred for. My cousins are all spamming me asking where the PS4 controllers are so they can play _my_ games, the ones _I _spent money on. _Oh, well, _I think. At least if they're removing the data on games I've spent years on they can't be terrorizing my cats. They've been messing with my cats since they got here, for no reason whatsoever.

Subconsciously, I fidget with my necklace. I've had it for several years, and its pendant often arouses compliments from relatives and even sometimes strangers. I'm sentimental, and let's be honest, a person who has fairly low self-esteem. I couldn't get rid of this thing even if I wanted to. It holds a place too close to my heart, figuratively and literally.

"_Rae! _Care to join us?" my teacher, Mr. Dixon, is attempting to gain my attention once again. Fool. He knows damn well I'm not gonna pay any attention and still get a good grade, so the joke's on him. I look at him innocently and apologize in a mild manner, polite enough to satisfy him for now. Of course, later, he's gonna want me to explain my distracted behavior. This has happened a couple times, and I have a list of excuses, some of which I may or may not have stolen from _The Office_, that one episode where Michael wants Jim to go with him to Asain Hooters, and Ryan takes up all the excuses so Jim has to go. That was a good episode, I should watch it when I get home to avoid my cousins. Wait! No, I can't do that. My friend Ruth and I are going to see a movie, and I'm staying the night at her house. I still can't believe I'm allowed to do this, since Thanksgiving is the day after I get back. Also, my cousins need my help to- I forgot to reply to them! By now I'm certain they've already destroyed my room and personal belongings. Stealthily pulling my phone out, I text my oldest cousin, Jake, and tell him where to find the controllers. They're in a cabinet by the TV, super hard to find, right?

-short time skip to after movie-

That movie was trash. It was the second _Jumanji_, and given the quality of the first one, I expected much better. This one was really cheesy, but watching even the crappiest movies with Ruth makes them better. We sometimes have marathons of shitty movies from our childhoods, where we point out the sex jokes and terrible animations. It's really fun. Now, though, Ruth and I are in her room in our pajamas, our phones each about two inches from our faces. My cousins managed to lose two controllers, but I don't care. I have a job, and spare money. I'm in too good a mood to give a shit about two PS4 controllers.

We both end up falling asleep trying to uphold an argument about peanuts.

"Did you know my cousin has a peanut allergy?"

"Liar. He does not. I would've known by now."

"Bro I ain't lying, he'll die if I throw a peanut at him. He will die."

"Prove it."

"What, you want me to kill my cousin?"

-nothing-

"Dude are you gonna kill my cousin?"

-snore-

On the way home there's some traffic. I guess someone got into a wreck or something, but we make it in about an hour. Naomi, Ruth's mom, is not happy about the traffic, like I could've fixed it. I didn't want to, anyway. The traffic gave me an extra hour with Ruth.

At home, something's on the news. Which is weird, no one in my house watches the news. Apparently some guy got in a car crash, went to the hospital, was announced dead, but then started moving again. He was violent after he woke up, though. To me, it just seems like he got a concussion or something and someone wasn't a good enough doctor to properly check a pulse.

I'm still debating with my aunt about it when there's a bang on the door.


	3. Chapter 3

-Ruth POV-

"God damn it, Ruth! Why would you make me drive in this traffic?"

"What the hell is up with these cars? _Fucking move already!_"

"Ruth, you better make Rae pay me gas money!"

As I tune Naomi, my mother, out while she's ranting about her shitty mood, I stare out the window. We aren't moving, I could be on my phone and not get carsick. At least the weather is nice; we've had a terrible streak of cold sunlight and stiffening breezes. Now, the beams shine through the leaves surrounding the road and I can see something moving in the woods-

"_Ruth!_ Aren't you listening to me? I was telling you you need to study tonight or you'll fail your next math test. Jesus, you never listen to me anymore."

"Yeah, mom, sure. You realize my next math test is in two weeks, right? I have more important stuff to be doing than stud-"

"No! What are you gonna do, anyway? Work on some dumb-ass project? Make Paige a snack?"

Bitch just cut me off to insult my hobbies and Paige. Like she does anything useful, anyway. All she's good for is driving.

As I prepare a reply, suddenly someone in front of us gets out of their car. It's a Toyota, a little thing that's as tall as I am. The person is a short stocky guy, he suits his truck. He rushes to the back of his truck, and he opens up the box thingy in the back. Out of it he pulls a.. the hell is that? It's a fucking shotgun!

"_Mom! Mom, look!_" I shout and push my way to the front of the car so my torso is in between the front seats.

"What the hell do you wa-" She stops in the middle of her sentence to watch the short man load his shotgun and walk with a special purpose to the car in front of him.

She gets out of the car instantly and shouts:

"_Hey! What the hell, dude? Put that thing away!_"

He turns around briefly and replies with respect.

"Ma'am, please get back in your car! Something's happening," he turns back around and walks.

I throw myself out of the car and run in front of it. I can barely hear my mom cursing at me to get the hell back into the car as I rush up behind the Toyota. I peek out from the left side, and see the man with his shotgun. He's coming up behind someone bent into the Nissan ahead of the Toyota. It looks like they're grabbing for someone, and no one is in the driver's seat. I can hear the faint crying of a young person, probably a toddler, coming from inside of the car. The man walks slowly to the Nissan, the gun ready to be fired.

"Hey! Hey, stop!" He has a Western accent. He stops creeping and stands up straight.

The person bent into the car, a young woman with brown hair, turns around. She's making groaning sounds.. as if she's in pain. She has a green tint to her face, like she's sick and her hair is sweaty and clumpy. To me, she just looks like a sick person, except there's blood around her mouth and splattering her face. Her eyes are bloodshot and wide open, furious-looking. She opens her mouth in what was probably supposed to be a threatening growl but came out as a violent gurgle, and rushes to our Western Hero Guy with his shotgun. His eyes widen as she slams into him, sinking her teeth into his arm and tearing away hunks of flesh. As I'm watching him drop his gun and struggle against her, my mom gets out of our car, runs up to me, and grabs me hard to pull me back to the car. My ears ring; when he dropped his gun it went off by accident. By now there's an obvious panic rising up from the people around us, the traffic clearing a little as people decide laws do not apply here and swerve around the violence off the road in different directions, presumably to their houses.

I don't think I've ever seen my mom so scared before. Of course I'm terrified as well, but she looks stiff in her fear. Rigid, almost like a statue.

"Mom! Mom, drive! Hurry _up!_" I try to get her to move, but she just won't. My screaming has distracted the woman eating Western Hero Guy, and she now moves closer to our car. I start cursing, and shoving my mom. Finally she looks at me and tells me to get out of the car.

"_GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT! THIS ISN'T REAL, THIS CAN'T HAPPEN!" _She's screaming at me as loud as she can. The cannibal lady is now hobbling to the car as fast as she can, and she's focused on my mother. I open up my door and get out, my head down low so she doesn't notice me. My mom locks the doors, and clutches her head whispering to herself, probably a prayer. I stand outside the car for a moment, looking at her, before I remember the shotgun. Something tells me I'm gonna need it soon, so I sneak around the Toyota and go up to the car with the owner of it lying, holes littering his face and torso. There's blood leaking out of each one, especially the gaping hole in his neck. I can see the barrel of it peeking out from under the dead guy, and I start reaching for it, my hand shaking as hard as I've ever seen it.

I grab it, and start yanking on it. This guy is heavier than I thought he was, but it starts to budge and it comes loose from under him. As I marvel at its weight, I realize I'm in way over my head. I've never held a shotgun, let alone attempted to use one. I don't even know if this thing is loaded, or how to load it, or where to get ammo, or how to find said ammo, and way more stuff that I shouldn't list for fear of being killed. Western Accent Guy looks pretty gross, and pale. Almost looks like he's breathing again, but it's probably just the breeze moving his shirt around. That would be weird, the wind's not even moving my clothes, which are pretty loose to begin with.

As I'm wondering what the fresh hell I'm supposed to do next, this dead guy starts to fucking _move_ again. He opens his eyes slowly, and looks around a little. I gasp in horror and he looks at me, opening his mouth a little. This is the most horrible sight I've ever dreamed of, dead ass guy with a bunch of bite marks and holes in him waking up from the dead and looking directly at me. He stirs, like he's trying to turn over and get up. Yeah, hell no, I'm getting out of here. He moves faster than I expected, and he turns over relatively swiftly to crawl over to me. I stumble backwards, and in my confusion I trip and fall on my ass, the shotgun thudding to my right. This weirdo reaches toward me, his mouth open in a groan. God, he smells fucking nasty. He's about half a foot closer, and grabs my foot. Kicking him in the teeth, I grab the gun and scoot backward as fast as I can. I point my new shotgun at him, and desperately try to find the trigger to pull it. When I do find it, I squeeze it about 7 times without anything coming from the other end of it, and then I realize I need to cock it. I grab the black thing on the barrel (fore-end) and pull it back and forth. I think that's all I needed to do, hopefully this guy had the safety off because God knows I don't know how to turn that shit off.

I point the gun at his face, which is easy since now he's only about 3 feet away from me.

"Dude, _STOP! _I don't want to do this, just get the hell away from me and we'll both go!"

I plead with him to stop moving for about five seconds before I realize he doesn't even hear me. He's not stopping. Closing my eyes, I point it at him and pull the trigger.

It's so loud, louder than I could've expected. And even though I was already on the ground, the kick knocks me flat onto my back, and my glasses fall off. I take a couple moments to recover, and slowly sit back up and grab my glasses. Well, the guy's not moving. There is basically none of his head left. There's like a crescent shape, and brain matter is scattered all over. Not much of a head. Some of it splattered onto my legs and torso, but not much. The nausea only now hits me, and I suddenly turn over to retch. The breakfast burrito I had this morning is not very kind on the way out, and after I sit back up my throat burns. I look up, and the lady who had been by my car banging against the windows is hobbling over to me. I stagger to my feet with the help of the shotgun, and look at her. I'm not shooting anything else, that was too horrible. I look at my car, and my mom is still sitting, stunned. Useless. I look into the woods, and their calmness is enticing. I get a good grip on the gun, and start to jog into the trees. I know how to get home from here, it's not far. Only about a mile. I can do a mile. Probably. As I pick up my pace, I turn back one last time. I realize my mother is now missing from our car.

_**so haha sorry for not having uploaded in a while, my bad:( i think i'm gonna start setting reminders to write like every other day or something so i don't forget.. also what should i make the cover picture? i've had some trouble with this maybe whoever accidentally finds this has an idea they'd like to share or something **_**_¯\\_(_****_ツ_****_)_/¯ if someone has like an idea or question that would be cool would make me super happy to reply/answer:))_**

**_till next time, my dudes ( ͡ ͜ʖ ͡ )_**


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